


Really Not Fine At All

by fandom_is_life



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Cutting, Depression, Mental Institution AU, Mute Michael, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:46:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_is_life/pseuds/fandom_is_life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has a problem and when he takes it too far can he deal with the consequences?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

I have a problem. I know it's a problem but I can't stop. I just can't. I need to be perfect. Maybe if I'm perfect then the mental abuse will stop. Maybe the pain will stop. I know I am worthless and a freak. I get told by everyone, that I am worthless. So I need to be perfect, but it's so hard to be perfect when perfect becomes not good enough. Anything that's not an A can be a condemning grade for me if he see it. Anything can be condemning. He hates me for just breathing. And that hate comes out in many forms. Violent forms, that are normally directed at me

Nowhere is safe from all this pain. Pain is the only thing I feel and even that is beginning to numb. Everything is numb. I no longer am effected by the words, the punches, the kicks. At least that's what I tell myself. The truth is, it hurts. To scream so loud and no one hears you. So why bother even speaking when you're never heard? I've tried to get help before, but who would believe the odd kid that doesn't interact with anybody? They all turn away. So I sought out a different type of help. 

When they turned me away, I turned to the blade. This pain is different from what I normally receive. In the numbing pain of the real world, the pain physical pain I bring upon myself os sweet relief. This is the one thing I can control. That power I hold over my very body with the single sharp blade permanently stained with my blood. Watching the blood trickle down my arms or thigh is mesmerizing. 

What if I ended it all? The pain? The suffering? All it would take is a slice just a little too close to a vein. It wouldn't take that long to bleed out. No one would miss me. Who would miss the freak of a mute kid who sits in the back of the classroom? Who always wears long sleeves, even in the summer, to hide his collecting of scared old and new? 

Hi. I'm Michael Clifford and I have a problem. I know that and it's going to be ok now. Problems don't exist where I'm going.


	2. Coming to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. I got a new cheater for you guys. I don't think I disclaimed the prologue. So this is for both this chapter and the last. I don't own 5 Seconds of Summer. Also check out my other work called WNGS a. It's an Orginal writing (free form) I think it's pretty good. Enjoy!

Chapter 2:

I faintly hear some sirens in the distance, but it doesn't matter to me anymore. Nothing matters to me anymore. I'll be dead before they can do anything about it. Not that they'd want to do anything about me. 

Next thing I know I see a bright light. NO!! This isn't supposed to happen. I'm supposed to be dead. Why am I not dead! I WANT TO BE DEAD!!!!! I…want…dead. I can feel some tears running down my face as I slowly gain consciousness. There are some wires and tubes hooking me up to machines that do so,thing or other to keep me alive. Which means they are the enemy. I start frantically to rip the wires and tubes from my body. 

Through my tears I feel hands grabbing at mind. Looking up I see a nurse telling me something I can't make out. Her lips keep moving, but I don't hear words come out. My vision blurs as more nurses one to my "aid." Only I don't want them to come to my aid. There is nothing I can't do about it now. I start to lose consciousness again. I guess this is how I will always be worthless. Worthless at living. Worthless at dying. I can't do anything right.

I come to with a groan. Nurses restrain my hands immediately, but I've no strength to do much of anything. What's the point of fighting the inevitable? I will have to live until I am strong enough to die again.

"Mr. Clifford, I will release your hands if you behave," the nurse said. I flinched when she said Mr. Clifford, but the nurse didn't notice. I give a weak nod of affirmation that I won't try to off myself for the second time. And I'll keep that promise for a little longer.


	3. Mental Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter. I don't own 5 Seconds of Summer. Check out my other work. W.N.G.S. by fandom_is_life. Might take a day or two for me to post another chapter. Comments are welcome.

Chapter 3:

Two days later:

"Michael, just listen to me!" My mom pleaded, but I'm not listening. I'm not doing much of anything. Stuck in shock. "They can fix you there!" Fix me, because I need to be fixed. I would have screamed at her about how I don't need to be fixed. I'm not some broken toy that needs to be fixed. But I stay silent.

My mom gives a small sigh and leaves the room. I'm alone to my thoughts and that's a truly scary thing. To be alone with yourself. No barrier between that little voice in my head that tells me how worthless I am and to try again. I move to scratch the cuts on my arms, but the nurse comes in and starts to mess around with the endless tubes and wires. She gives me a look as if she knew what I was about to do.

That afternoon, I'm checked out the hospital for normal people and taken to the one for freaks. Freaks like me who need to be "fixed." As if anyone could fix me. My mom drives me go the mental hospital where they specialize in treating under-aged patients. The car passes by the big metal fences and through intimidating gates. This place was built like a prison. And that's what it is, a prison.

Inside the mental hospital is no better than the outside. The walls are a pristine white, and the whole place smell of cleaning chemicals that burn my nose. I keep my head down and try not to make eye contact with anyone. Which does nothing for the stares I can feel burning wholes into the back of my head. But now is the time to be paranoid. Even though I can feel those judging stares.

_That's because they all can see how weak and pathetic you are._ Stop it. _Why? We both know its true. Weak little pathetic Michael. Can't even succeed at dying. You failed twice. But maybe the third time is the charm._

I start to panicking and hyperventilating. The staff run to help me and all my mom can do is cry. I see tears run down her face as she starts to leave. That hurts more that anything. My emotional shield has been stripped to the bone in the past 24 hours. I become very hard of breathing. I think I'm going to pass out in a few minutes if I can't calm down. Someone starts to rub my back and I violently flinch away. I can hear somebody speaking, but I'm not listening. I run.


	4. The Boy With the Blue Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own 5 Seconds of Summer. Check out my other fanfic W.N.G.S. By fandom_is_life. I would love to hear your comments on both.

Chapter 3:

I run through a random door and straight into a body. I fall to the floor and frantically back up into a corner. I'm shaking and I know I'm still crying. I can't help it. Once I get started the only thing that can stop me is my best friend, the blade. Any sharp object would do really, but I prefer my blade.

The person that I ran into just stands there. He obviously is shocked at what just happened. _That or he is so disgusted by you that he went into shock._ No. _Yes_. No. _Yes_. …yes? I can practically hear the weak protest and uncertainty in my "no"s until they become a defeated yes. I already knew the voice would win. It always wins.

The person squats down in front of me and I take a look at him through my tears. He is thin, alarmingly so, but I have no room to talk with all my issues. I can see a band in his wrist, so he must be a patient. His hair is blond and his skin is pale, but I can make out some faded scars on his upper arms when the sleeve moved upwards. But that's not the think that holds my attention. I glance at his eyes for a moment. They were beautiful blue, but they held a haunted look with in them. No eye contact. I avert my eyes and look at the the floor.

"Shhhhh. Hey. Hey. It's okay." The guy with blue eyes whispers. He's trying to calm me down, I think. He gives me small slightly strained smile. "I'm Luke." Luke. Such nice name, nothing like Michael. "You don't speak do you?" He questioned.

Suddenly a nurse in the staff comes into the room. He is weilding a needle in his hand and is coming towards me. I make a small whimper and grab onto Luke's shirt sleeve. Luke gives me a look that I couldn't decipher, but he subtly shifted in front of me.

Luke and the nurse are in the midst of a stare down. I can see their mouths moe as well. I don't know what they are saying. It's all I can do to keep my mental breakdown contained. Luke's way too skinny hand snakes into mine and he gives me a comforting squeeze helping to ground me to reality.

The nurse leaves room, but no without throwing me last look. Luke starts to talk to me again. "Come on. It's okay. He's gone." Luke somehow manages to coax me out of the corner and helps me to stand up. 

"Now…Let's see if we can't find your room. You're new, right? I've never seen you before." Luke just keeps talking and I nod and try to keep up.

As we pass more people, I can feel them looking at me. Judging and looking for what made me crack and why. What did I do to warrant my residence here. I start to tug on my sleeve ends and try to hide behind my hair. I duck my head down, because kneeing your head down can keep you from getting hurt. The bad kind of hurt, not like the hurt that has become my salvation. _Not that you don't deserve both kinds of pain. A worthless little freak like you deserves to hurt.Your own mother abandoned you here. If that's not proof enough, look at your arms. Pathetic._ I shake those thoughts out of my head. At least for now. They will be back sooner or later. We head towards the front desk, and Luke gets my room number. "Room 103," the woman at the desk said.

I give a nod of acknowledgement when she looks me. Luke leads me away from the desk and starts to speak again. "So room 103. That means you are on my floor. My friend Ashton isyour roommate. He's okay, not much of taker either. Well, not with new people." Luke keep rambling on with that smile on his face.

How can someone with such haunted eyes, be so happy and cheerful? Or is it just a mask? I've only met Luke his morning and I'm already intrigued. If I'm not careful, I might become too attached to Luke. And when he finds out how truly messed up I am, he will leave. _Just like everyone else._

 


	5. New Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own 5sos. Notes at the end.

Chapter 5:

Luke leads to my room, room 103. It's empty, but obviously someone else lives here. The one side of the room is trashed. The bed is messy, clothes are littered over half the room. But everything seems to stay on on side of some imaginary line. My side of the room, or at least what I assume is my side, is completely bare. It looks like it hasn't been used in ages, with dust settled on the bedside table and a burnt out lightbulb in a boon lamp. Home Sweet Home until they can fix the screw up that is Michael.A hand makes its way across my face, effectively snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Yoohoo. Earth to Michael. I'm gonna leave you now." Luke said. What? No! He can't leave me! _Haha! I told you he'd be tired of your sorry butt soon._ Luke must have seen the panic in my eyes and reverted back to the soft gentile voice he used earlier. "I'll be back. It's okay. I'm just down the hall."

My breathing slows a little and I let go of his arm. Since when did I become so weak? Latching on to the first person who shows me the smallest form of kindness. Have I missed human interaction that much? Do I crave being thought of as having some semblance of worth. Maybe. But I know I don't deserve it. What have I ever done to deserve someone treating me as a human being and actually caring about me? You haven't done anything. Because your not worth it. I'm not worth anything.

I check to make sure Luke left and go to close the door. With slow shaky hands, I bend down to untie my shoelace of my right foot. Hidden under the shoe's sole is a small dull blade. Just sharp enough to break the skin, but not without extreme pain. But that's amongst the reasons I use the blade, to feel. It makes the outside match the inside. And the inside is currently a mess.

Just as I put the blade to the inside of my left elbow, I feel a hand grab mine. I'm slowly maneuvered to face the intruder. Only now do I realized my mistake. Not that mistakes are uncommon with me. My whole existence is a mistake. But in my hurry, I had left the door unlocked. Which left me staring into the eyes of…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! fandom_is_life here. Please comment. I'm going to shamelessly promote my other writing now. It's called W.N.G.S. and it's an Orginal work. Please read. I'll update both this and the other later today. If you got an idea for a fanfic you wanna see, send me your idea, leave it in the comments, I'll see what I can do. Luv ya guys! :)


	6. Ashton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter just like I promised! Still promoting W.N.G.S.

Chapter 6:

Which left me staring straight into the eyes of whom I presume is my new roommate. Whose first impression of me is the freak who can't spend more than a day in a mental hospital without cutting himself. He's probably going to run. He's probably going to tell everyone because that's what people do.

I look towards the door only to find that he wasn't there anymore. The blade is still pressed up against the inside of my elbow. I guess I had been pressing pretty hard because I am just breaking skin. The pain isn't even registering as I move my arm mechanically to make another cut to go with my collection of scars. Both the newer angry red ones and the faded scars that stand out in stark contrast with my pale skin.

Just as I move to make a second cut, and reaches out and grabs my wrist. Out of shock I drop the blade and it hits the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Long fingers are delicately wrapped around my wrist. The grip is mindfully loose as to not cause pain by squeezing my cuts, but strong enough to stop me from moving away.

When I look into his eyes, I see a guarded concern and some…understanding? He looks down at the blade currently resting innocently on the carpet, then looks back at my wrist. He give a little shake of his hand before letting go of me to reach down and picking up my blade. I stare at the guy who is taking my blade and moving to go and throw it out. When a small whimper leaves my mouth, he freezes for a moment.

After throwing my precious blade, my one and only friend, out, the boy picks up a notepad off of the other bed. As he writes on the pad, I take a good look at him. He seems my age if not bit older with curly hair being kept out of his face by a black bandanna. His mouth seems to be in a permanent frown and he has an air of sadness around him. When he looks up to motion me towards him, I see that his eyes scream depression.

I'm Ashton Irwin and I will call the nurse if you go after the blade 

I never had to communicate with anyone so I don't have any paper or pencil handy, nor did I learn sign language. So I point at the pen and pad of paper in his hand. It takes him, Ashton, a second before he hands over the paper.

** I'm Michael. I think we're roommates. Don't call the nurse  **

I hand the pad back and we sit in not exactly awkward silence. But I'm used to silence so it's okay. Eventually a nurse comes to inform us that we would be eating dinner soon. I'm not looking forward to that or my first therapy session tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear your comments!


	7. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a little bit. Been busy. But don't wory I have a new chapter for you and will be updating more this week. More notes at the end. Please read! Comments. Love comments.

Chapter 7:

Dinner is rather uneventful compared to the rest of the day. I sit with both Ashton and Luke at a pale blue circular table. A stern looking man watches over the room with an intimidating look. He catches my eyes and I shrink into my self little. Luke bumps his hand into mine ad gives me a small smile when I glance at his face. Looking at the half eaten sandwich on my plate, I start to think about Luke. He looks like skin and bones! His food is barely touched. It's spread across he plate and half covered by a napkin. There wasn't much food there to begin with. In any other circumstance I would assume that he isn't hungry, but here I don't think so. If anything this is more proof that he is here for an eating disorder.

A nurse walks around with little cups with medicine in the for each patient. I will probably get a prescription tomorrow at the therapy session. Which I still am not looking forward to. They'll probably say you're too messed up. I shake my head to clear my thoughts. Dangerous thoughts that could eventually lead to the razor. It's still in the trashcan. If I am really careful, I could quickly get it and hide it from Ashton. Why do I care so much about what Ashton and Luke think about me. I mean I normally do care too much probably, but not like this. This place is already getting to me.

Something enters my vision. A piece paper out of the corner of my eye. Luke pushes the paper close to me. I think it is Ashton's hand writing. I look at Ashton. He nods towards the paper. Sighing I read the paper.

Stop thinking so much. It'll mess with your head. Not good. 

Sighing again I rub my forehead and nod an okay at Ashton. I don't promise. I never promise because promises are always broken. So I guess wouldn't be so bad to get the blade. After all, I didn't promise him, I just asked him to not tell the nurse.

I hear Ashton release a sigh and shake his head sadly. I think every he does is sadly. He must know where my mind is heading. The almost warning in his eyes is enough to make me stop my train of though as far as claiming what it mine. It's my blade, my precious. I let out an almost bitter laugh. It's quiet but enough to make both Luke and Ashton send me questioning looks. I shake my head at them. Let them think what they want. In fact let everyone think whatever they want. It doesn't matter to me. I won't be getting better anytime soon, but I will be getting out soon. I continue my quiet bitter almost a little maniacal laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Promoting my other work. It's an original work called W.N.G.S. By fandom_is_life. Please read. I would love to hear your comment on this chapter. I love comments! If you have any ideas for one shots or stories in general leave them in the, comments or something and I'll see what I can do. (Doesn't have to be 5sos)


	8. Therapy

Chapter 8:

"So Michael, how has your day been so far? Do you like it here?" The therapist speaks with an almost condescending tone. As if he is better than me and knows it. _That's because he is better than you. Your the one in the god damn mental institute. He is perfectly stable and so much better than you. Then again, everyone is better than you._

The therapist sits across from me. He is half hidden from view because of his desk, a barrier between him and me. A shield protecting him from my crazy. It's almost laughable. If it was that easy, I would barricade myself from the world just so none would have to be affected by the nothingness and valueless that is me. I sit with my arms crossed and my lips tightly pressed. This is my barrier. Silence is my shield. I don't talk to anyone else. What on earth makes this man think I am going to say a word to him? He must be delusional thinking that he can in anyway help me. I'm too far gone, beyond help.

It doesn't matter anyway. I checked to see if the trash had been collected before I left the room. It hadn't been, and I doubt it will be collected during this hour session. That means that my blade, my salvation, the only thing that keeps me sane, is still here. I can almost feel it's sweet relief against my skin. Almost is not good enough though. I wonder if Ashton will give me a disappointed sad look with his big eyes? Why do I even care? _Maybe because your such a disappointment? Who wouldn't be disappointed with you? Have you seen you!_

I shake my head a bit and attempt to listen to what the therapist is saying. "So your not gonna talk? I can't help you if you don't say anything." He says with that same tone as before, that rubs me the wrong way. I don't say a word to him. The therapist continues to speak ignoring the blank stare I give him. "Listen kid, I get paid wether or not you talk to me, so I can sit here all day. But I only have to stay here with you for an hour. We can sit here in silence for the rest of the time, or you can say something and I will let you leave now. What's it gonna be?"

Nothing. I say nothing. He gives a resigned sigh and sits bed in his chair. We sit for the rest of the hour in uncomfortable silence. He doesn't care at all, so why should I? Finally I hear a knock at the door. The therapist jumps into action, fixing his closes and sitting up straighter. Be tells the person at the door to come in. A nurse comes in to take me back to my room. I almost cry with joy. I am tempted to give the therapist the middle finger, but I think I'll get in trouble.  Normally I wouldn't care, but I heard that you can get sent to solitude if you do something bad or wrong. The therapist can send me to solitude at will, so I better not get on his bad side. As might as I like being on my own, I do not want to be in solitude.

The nurse walks me back to my room and I sit on my bed. Once she leaves, I take a glance around the room. Ashton is nowhere in sight and the trash can looks as if it hasn't been touched in the hour or so I was away. Keeping an eye on the door, I cautiously move towards the trashcan. I mover some trash out of the way in search for my razor blade. My hand brushes against something metallic. I pull it out only to realize that it is nothing more that am old soda can. Feeling around the trashcan some more, I don't feel the blade. No! I has to be here!

I begin to become more frantic in my searching. Throwing caution to the wind I dump the trashcan over. I scramble to find my blade. Tears start to form in the corners of my eyes when I see that my blade is no where in sight. Did a nurse take it? Did Ashton take it? Ashton! He must have taken it! Who else knows about my blade being in the trashcan? I stalk out of the room I search of Ashton. Determination firm in my eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry I haven't updated much or at all in the past month. I have been so busy, but now that it is summer I can focus more on writing and updating this fanfiction. Please comment, and tell me what you think on this chapter and the story as a whole. I'd love to hear your comments! So comment, like subscribe, and read. There is defiantly more to come. Also if you have any ideas/prompts for one shots or stories that you want to see, send them to me I'll see what I can do. Thanks for sticking with me. I love you guys!


	9. New Faces, Unfamiliar Places

I walk down the hall and there must have been some kind of crazy look in my eyes, because no one would meet them. _Too crazy for the crazies! Ha!_ I think I felt that somewhere in my chest where my heart is supposed to be, but that has been hurt so much it is virtually unrecognizable. I continue my search for Ashton.

It didn't really occur to me when I left my room that I really have little to no clue where I'm going and no one looks too eager to help me. _Who'd help you?_ There was the lunch room where we ate dinner. This place look a bit familiar, but there is no dirty blonde clad in a black bandanna. This place is becoming less familiar, but halls all look the same. I can't tell if I've been going in circle or not. I'm hopelessly lost. But I already knew that, because I'm in a mental institution for Christ sake!

Tears start to form in the corners of my eyes as it becomes harder to breathe. I bump into the chest of a tan boy in a Green Day shirt. He had black hair with blonde peaking out in chaotically straight lines. A growl rumbles out of the chest I am still pressed up against. I jump back and avert my eyes to his black vans. Doesn't anyone wear any color around here? No of course not because color is something that happy people deserve and we are most certainly not happy.

"Out of my way," the unnamed boy whispers intently with a slight glare in his eyes.

I'm unsure if he meant to be threatening or not because I have been know to take things the wrong way. But it is way better to be safe than sorry. I have spent enough time being sorry that I don't even really know what safe feels like. And I'd really like to feel safe for once in my life. 

I take a step back and move out of his way.  He hits my should as he passes by. I take one look back and see him walk around a corner. I keep walking and try to get him out of my mind. A few seconds later, I see Ashton talking to Luke. Well Luke talking and Ashton furiously scribbling responses. He looks up from his paper with a frown and notices me. He gives a little wave, beckoning me to their corner. I've never really been a fan of corners though. No way to escape My tormentor. But Ashton seems nice and Luke doesn't look like he is in any shape to hurt me. If I breathe on Luke, he might just break. 

With a single clap, Ash breaks me out of my thoughts. He points to the page. There is one word on his paper: Calum

I cock my head to the side questioning the significance of the word, or name rather. With a huff, Ash writes some more.

Calum is the guy you ran into.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter and I know that it has been a really long time. So sorry. I am really trying to manage all of my activities. I do the best I can with updating. Give me some feedback, comment are great. If you have any ideas or prompts you want me too right leave a comment or you can reach my on my tumblr redangold. I really want to hear what you think! :)


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